What was Missing
by chronicler-of-knuckles
Summary: Northern California is thick forests, mountains, raging rivers, sink holes, wild fires, earthquakes, monstrous storms, hidden booby trapped marijuana farms, drug traffickers, lost tourists, wild dog packs, slave traders, cults. Oh, and The Magnificent 7.
1. Chapter One

A/N: This is a revised/corrected chapter in prep. to finishing the story. It is a new AU that I hope other writers will pick up and play with.

What was Missing

By The Chronicler

"Moo." The little boy leaned his head against the fence rail and tried again. "Moo!"

The small White Tailed doe munched on her feed, giving the annoying child little more than a glance.

The boy straightened up, put his hands on his hips, and glared at the animal. "I said MOO!"

"Munch, munch, munch..."

"John Danniel Dunne, what are you up to now?" Nathan Jackson called as he crossed the courtyard to come and stand behind the five year old.

Tilting his head up and back so he could look up at the grownup, J.D. complained "She won't talk to me, Uncle Nate."

Nathan chuckled. "Well, problem is she's a deer, not a cow. I don't think she speaks in terms of moo'."

"What does she speak?" J.D. wanted to know, turning back to watch the animal.

Nathan paused, frowning. After a moment, he admitted "You know what? I just don't know. But I bet Josiah knows. He should be here soon with your father. You can ask him, okay?"

The five year old nodded. He watched the deer another moment, chewing on his lip as he did when thinkin' real hard.' Then his eyes brightened. "Maybe she's bi-linguini..." He leaned his head against the fence, and tried again "Moo?"

Nathan grinned. "That's bilingual... But I still think she doesn't speak cow."

J.D. glanced up at him, then turned back to the deer. After another moment of thought, he shouted at the top of his little lungs "RUFF!"

Startled by the sudden and very loud noise, the deer bolted to the far side of the paddock.

"Hey! Wow!" J.D. bounced for joy, clapping his hands. "She speaks doggy!" Then he frowned. "I wonder what I said. I didn't mean to scare her."

Nathan shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe you should try a quieter language... like horse... or rabbit?"

"Rabbit?" His eyes brightened. "Like Thumper and Bambi? They talked! They talked all the time!" Instantly he began to thump his foot on the ground and wiggle his nose.

Nathan laughed. "hey, there you go. That just might work. Go try it out."

"You comin'?"

Nathan glanced at a big, black sedan as it pulled into the parking spot in front of the office. "You go on ahead, J.D. I'll catch up to you soon."

"Promise?" When Nathan made a cross over his heart, the boy shook his finger at him.

"Don't you forget!" And, with that, he was off, running around the edge of the paddock to get close to the deer again.

Nathan smiled one more time as he watched the boy go. Then, with a sigh, he turned and started across the courtyard to the office.

Sarah Larabee had stepped out of the office, dusting her fingers on her faded jeans, then straightening her white tank top. Standing on the large deck, she smiled her best, prepared to meet their visitors and potential client.

"Hi, there. Welcome to Redwood Guides." she greeted as the driver's door opened.

The chauffeur glanced at her with a rather unkind look. Then moved to the other side of the car and opened the back door.

A very elegantly dressed woman stepped out. With one quick tug, she smoothed away any and all real and imaginary wrinkles in her tailored black dress suite with pearl buttons. She reached up and adjusted the wide brim lady's hat pinned to her tightly permed, dyed blond hair. The heals of her outrageously expensive, soft paten shoes sunk a little into the soft dirt of the yard. Frowning, she looked down at the hated dirt and what it had done to her precious shoes. "Well, crap." she cursed in a manner completely contrast to her lady like appearance.

Sarah froze. "Maude? Maude Sanchez?" she breathed in disbelief.

The woman glanced up at her, her sharp emerald eyes striking out. The flash of venom in those eyes was there just barely long enough to be seen, before, in a blink, it was gone and she smiled. "Sarah! My sweet little Sarah. My dear, what a wonderful sight you are. As beautiful as ever. What a wonderful, beautiful sight indeed."

Sarah couldn't believe her eyes. So, she asked again: "Maude Sanchez?"

Maude smiled. "No, dear, it's Standish again. I reclaimed my maiden name after that unhappy episode with my former husband." She glanced about. "And where is Mr. Sanchez?"

Recovering from her shock, Sarah stiffened with an old, dredged up anger. "What do you want?" she growled. "Haven't you done enough to Josiah? Taking off like you did. You just up and disappeared with no more trace than divorce papers. And now, nine years later, you show up again?"

Maude's smile never faltered. "Closer to eight years and nine months, actually." she answered.

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want, Maude?" she demanded.

The woman's emerald eyes narrowed just slightly. Then she reached back and held a hand out to the still open car door.

A small boy with auburn hair, each curl perfectly placed, and striking green eyes took the offered hand as he stepped out of the car. He was dressed in a tailored five piece suit, a perfect miniature of something a modern day English prince might ware. To accent the suit were his polished to a shine black loafers and a gold pocket watch on a fine gold chain.

Maude took on a look of pride. "Ezra, this is Mrs. Sarah Larabee." She looked up at Sarah. "Sarah, my dear, this is my son, Ezra Patrick Standish." Her eyes locked on hard to the woman. "He will be nine years old in two days."

Ezra bowed his head slightly. "Mrs. Larabee, it is a pleasure." he greeted in a perfect gentlemanly manner.

Sarah's jaw dropped. "Holy shit!"

o0o0o0o0o0o

Chris smiled as he pulled his hummer to a stop in front of the garage. "Buck?"

"Huh?" His friend mumbled from under his cap. Despite being home, he was still leaned back in the passenger seat, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, determined to catch what little laziness induced sleep he could.

Chris reached over and snatched the cap off his face. "What, exactly, is your son doing?" he wanted to know.

Frowning, Buck sat up and looked out the window to where J.D. was on his hands and knees, "Baaa" at the deer they had been rehabilitating.

In the back seat Josiah chuckled. "Brother Buck, I do believe we have a Dr. DoLittle in the family."

Buck sighed. "Well, at least he's talkin' to a deer. Last night he spent hours trying to learn elephant."

Josiah's chuckle turned to a full fledge laugh.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. "So, that's what all that racket was about."

"Chris?" mumbled a sleepy, seven year old that had been curled up against Josiah's hip.

Chris glanced back at his adopted son. "We're home, Vin."

The little shaggy head poked up to look out the window. "Chris?"

The father sighed. "Yes, Vin?"

"Who brought the big, ugly car?" Vincent Tanner wondered. "An' the big, ugly guy?"

The three men all turned in their seats to look out the back window, seeing the sedan and its driver for the first time.

"Huh." Chris mumbled.

"Client?" Buck suggested.

"Maybe." Chris answered. He watched as his wife stepped out of the office and onto the deck. When she saw they had arrived, she started across the compound toward them. "Alrighty, folks, 'les you intend on sleepin' in this thing, lets unload. Vin, straight to your room and out of your school clothes. And, remember, Sarah's gonna want to see your school work."

"Yes, sir." Vin groaned.

Chuckling, Josiah reached across the boy and opened the door for him.

"Josiah!" Sarah called as she got close. She paused to give her adopted son a welcome home hug and kiss, but hurried on without her usual how was school? Tell me all about it.'

"Sarah." Josiah greeted, climbing out of the hummer. "New clients?" he asked.

"Not exactly." She glanced at her husband as he and Buck joined them. "You have a visitor, Josiah. She's waiting in my office."

Josiah frowned. "Visitor? Who is it?" he wondered.

Sarah hesitated, before suggesting "Might be best if you went and saw for yourself."

Now Chris and Buck frowned. It wasn't like Sarah to hesitate. If anything, she was the lionheart of the bunch.

Josiah eyed her, but then, with a shrug, headed for the office.

Waiting until he was out of ear shot, Chris stepped close to his wife. "Wanna fill us in?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Maude Standish smiled when she heard the heavy foot falls on the deck. "Your very finest, Ezra." she reminded her son.

The boy stood at his mother's right, straight and proud, head held high. "Yes, mother." he answered her. He knew what she wanted of him. She would reason the man. He would distract him. And they would fill their pockets and make a run for it...

As always.

But then he stepped into the room. A big, hulking man. Not tall so much as just big. Shoulders wide and square, thick arms, and big hands. The plank floor creaked as he stepped into the office.

Ezra couldn't help but stare, momentarily forgetting their mission.

But then he realized the man was just standing there, staring back at them... or rather his mother.

The boy tore his eyes away from the mountain of a man to look up at his mother.

Maude slowly rose to her feet. "Mr. Sanchez, it is good to see you." she purred, smiling her very best.

Josiah Sanchez couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. "Maudy?" he whispered.

The woman fluttered her eyes, lowering her head in a facade of innocent shyness. "My gentle Josiah." she breathed as if they were long lost, found again, lovers.

He shook his head, confused. "What... what are you doing here?" he wondered, not quite able to comprehend that she truly was there.

Maude set a hand on her boy's shoulder. "Josiah Sanchez, this is my... our son." she admitted.

Frowning, the big man turned his eyes down, seeing the boy for the first time. "Son?" he whispered.

A sharp squeeze from his mother, reminded Ezra of the task at hand. Daring the mountain, he took a step toward him, and offered a hand up to him. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sanchez." he greeted, proud of the fact that his voice didn't fail him even for a breath.

Josiah stared at him for a moment, before casting a glance up at the mother.

Maude continued her shy, little smile, dropping her eyes.

"My son?" Josiah needed clarification. Our' only meant her's and some one else's. Didn't necessary mean...

"Your son." Maude assured.

Josiah stared at her long and hard, waiting for her to fade away like smoke. After all, this couldn't be happening. He had a son?

Again, he looked down at the child who still held his little hand out, waiting to be acknowledged. Josiah felt his stomach flip, his heart leap right up his throat. He dropped down to his knees so that he could be eye level with the child. "Hello." he whispered, taking the offered hand.

Ezra tilted his head in a half nod. "Good day, sir."

Josiah glanced down at the little hand in his huge paw. It looked so tiny and pale. So fragile. "What's your name... son?" he wanted to know.

"Ezra P. Standish, sir." he answered.

"Sanchez!" Maude quickly corrected, giving her son a painful squeeze, reminding him the cost of making mistakes.

Practiced to the point of near perfection, Ezra took the pain without even a flinch.

But Josiah saw it. No, he heard it in his ex-wife's voice. He had known her far too well to know when she was dealing out punishment. And, suddenly, he was reminded of why he hated so much this woman he had loved so dearly.

Smiling gently to the boy, Josiah suggested "Ezra, Vin's probably in the kitchen in the house getting his after-school snack. Cookies and milk. Would you care to join him? Give your mother and I a moment to discuss a few things."

The boy's eyes narrowed only a fraction. "Thank you, sir, but I believe I will wait in the car..."

"Of course you would like some cookies and milk. That's very kind of Mr. Sanchez. Isn't it, Ezra?" Again the painful squeeze.

Ezra swallowed, then smiled his best. "Of course. Thank you, sir."

Josiah smiled back. He nodded to the back door. "Just follow the path. It'll take you right to the kitchen of the main house. Tell Sarah I sent you."

The boy nodded once, then turned and started for the door.

"Ezra?" Josiah called after him. When the child paused to look back, he told him in all honestly "I am very happy to meet you."

Ezra's smile faltered then, and suspicion flashed across his emerald eyes for the briefest of moments, the only honest emotion he had shown thus far. But he quickly hid it away, his smile returning to full strength. He bowed his head in acknowledgment, then hurried out the door.

"Alone at last." Maude breathed. "Oh, my darling Josiah, how I have..." Her voice died off as his eyes turned up, sending a hate filled glare at her. She couldn't help but flinch.

"If you ever hurt that boy again..." He shook his head angrily, unable to find just the right description for what he would do. "Deepest pits of hell would be the only solace you will find from my wraith!"

Maude stared, wide eyed and pale.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Ezra paused just outside the kitchen door. It was a big ranch door, the upper half filled with little windows. He could see Sarah and a boy sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on cookies and looking over school work. A tall, blond man leaned against the door on the far side of the room, watching his family as he sipped at a beer.

Sarah was showing the boy something on the papers. When he took the pencil and wrote something, she smiled and hugged him, before looking over her shoulder at the man who seemed to be nodding his approval.

Ezra wondered for a moment what that would be like. A father and a mother and a son, all enjoying a moment with nothing at stake. No bet, no do or die, no con... just enjoying one another. He thought for a moment about all the windows he had looked through, wondering the same thing. Specially at night, when he could see the figures cross the blinds with the light behind them. Or bunched together on the couch in front of the big windows, watching T.V. Or sitting around a dinning room table for dessert and how was your day, dear?' conversations.

"You ain't gonna get no cookies out here."

Ezra glanced down sharply at the little black hair boy he had seen playing in the yard earlier. Behind him stood another man, big, solid, with blue eyes and unruly brown hair.

The boy grinned before ducking in front of Ezra. He pushed open the door, and ran into the kitchen. Before he could reach the table, Sarah was telling him "Wash those paws of yours, young man!"

The blond man laughed, scooped the child up, and carried him to the sink to wash his hands. With a hold on his calves, he dangled him over the sink while the boy did the awkward deed of pouring soap on and washing his hands up-side down.

The brown hair man set a gentle hand on Ezra's shoulder.

Instinctively, Ezra shrugged away, his eyes snapping up at him.

The man just smiled. "He's right, you know. Cookies, that way." He jerked his head toward the kitchen.

Hearing him, Sarah looked toward the door. "Ezra, come on in." she called, quickly rising to her feet and went to the cupboard to fetch another glass. "Have you met the other's yet?" she asked, pouring him some milk. "This is Chris Larabee, my husband and our son Vincent."

"Adopted." the boy who was shuffling together his school work corrected. "Hey." he added a greeting and a nod to the newcomer.

Chris dropped the squirming five year old in the chair next to his son, and reached over to gently tug on a long, dusty blond lock from Vin's head. "Mine none the less." he assured. He turned and pulled out a chair for Ezra.

Ezra hesitated for a moment. But knowing what his mother's reaction would be if he displeased any of these people, he moved to take the seat. "Thank you, Mr. Larabee. You are very kind, sir."

Chris frowned at this very un-eight year old like behavior.

But Sarah had expected it. "You are very welcome, Ezra."

"I'm J.D." announced the littlest boy loudly. "John Daniels Dunne!" he said proudly. Then he pointed to the brown hair man. "He's Buck. Buck's mine!" That said, he found the biggest cookie on the plate in the middle of the table and did his best to inhale it.

Chuckling, Buck Wilmington nodded. "That I am, that I am." But then he looked down at Ezra. "And just who do you belong to?" he asked, grabbing a cookie for himself.

Ezra glanced at him, but then looked up at Sarah as she set a glass of milk in front of him. "Mr. Sanchez wished to have a moment to speak privately with my mother, thus, he sent me here. Please forgive my intrusion."

The woman smiled. "Nothing to forgive, sweety. You're always welcome in our home."

Vin scrutinized the other boy. "Where you from?" he wondered.

"Yea." J.D. wanted to know too. "You talk funny. Hey! Do you speak deer?"

Ezra's eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment of how to answer the question. His mother didn't like him giving out details of anything about them. Details were weapons. If he knew them, they were his weapons. If they knew them... well, then. "I suppose that we are from all over. We travel quite a bit." he offered up a vague answer. Then added, with a smile at J.D. "I'm afraid I have yet to learn deer. But, if she speaks French, perhaps I can be of some assistance."

The boy grinned from ear to ear with that and offered his brand new best friend a half eaten cookie.

Ezra shook his head slightly, amused by the offer.

"French?" Sarah whistled. "You must be a very smart boy to have learned French already. Do you go to school?"

"Yes, Mrs. Larabee." Ezra answered a little too quickly, his eyes snapping up at her. Silently he reprimanded himself for the quickness of his answer. He knew it would sound as if he was hiding something or right out lying... which he was. Trying to fix the error, Ezra made sure to meet her gaze and hold it, knowing that liars rarely exposed their eyes to scrutiny. But Ezra knew his eyes didn't reveal what others did. He was too well trained for that.

Sarah wasn't buying it. She was too well trained too. Too well trained in the ways of children, anyway. And she knew that little Ezra was not being very child like. Knowing Maude, even if it had been nine years ago, she could guess as to the why.

She opened her mouth to ask for more details when Nathan walked into the room. "Hey, Chris, Buck. How was the job?" he asked, walking over to the sink to wash his hands.

"Boring." Buck groaned.

Nathan grinned. "In other words they were all retired men and not one pretty girl among them?"

"Yea!" Buck crossed his arms over his chest, glancing down when he saw J.D. mimicking him. "Now who'd all go wanderin' about the woods with no one for company? Huh? An' they were claimin' to be huntin'."

"What'd they be huntin' with girls?" Vin wanted to know.

Buck winced, though it was probably more the effect of the equally venomous glare Sarah and Chris threw him than the question itself. With an apologetic smile to the parents, he told the boy "Ask me again in ten years."

"Do I have to wait ten years?" J.D asked.

"No." Sarah was quick to answer. "You have to wait fifteen."

"Aaahhh!" J.D., pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ezra couldn't help but to chuckle, drawing a surprised smile from Sarah. He quickly dropped his eyes, becoming fascinated with his milk.

Chris shrugged. "It was uneventful. We showed them a few hundred deer and they managed to shoot a tree. We made sure they got back to civilization without shooting each other. They gave us a big fat check and promises that they'll tell all their friends about us, enough to keep us busy right into an early retirement."

"Speaking of such..." Sarah held her hand in the air.

With a sigh and a groaned "Women." Chris dug into his shirt pocket and handed her the deposit slip for the payment.

"Thank you." Sarah chirped. "I will make sure this gets into the books."

Ezra's sharp eyes latched onto the slip, watching carefully as Sarah folded it and put it into her jean's front pocket.

"When's our next group?" Buck asked.

Nathan shrugged. "The Wild Rescue wants to pick up the doe day after tomorrow. And we'll have the annual trackers' convention who can't track anything next week."

"Oh, goody." Chris grumbled.

Sarah tilted her head back until she could see him standing behind her chair. "Oh, cheer up, love. Who knows? Maybe there'll be some horrific forest fire and they'll call you boys in for reserves. Hey, maybe some riche rich city folk will go and get themselves lost in the wilds of our little part of the country."

"A pretty little damsel in distress?" Buck asked hopefully.

The adults laughed.

Sarah shook her head. "Buck, you are... oh, hopeless just doesn't seem to fit the bill."

"Incorrigible." Ezra offered before sipping at his milk.

The woman looked at him, surprised. "Incorrigible? Yes... that's just about right. You are a smart boy!"

Ezra glanced up at her. Her praise made him feel warm all over. Something his own mother's praise never had. 'Course, when his mother praised him, it was always backed with a threat.

But Sarah wasn't threatening him. She looked and smiled at him, fearlessly meeting his eyes, and offering him an open view of whatever she had within. She was being honest with him.

Ezra couldn't help but smile back.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Maude had chosen to ignore Josiah's comment. There was no answer to it except argue, and there was nothing she could achieve if she argued with this man. And Maude Standish did nothing unless there was something for her to gain.

Donning her sweetest, she stepped close to her former husband. "Oh, my dearest, how I have missed you." She reached out a gentle hand, but he grabbed it only a breath from his chest. Maude hesitated, surprised by the hold. The was nothing gentle in his touch, and, she knew, it was simply restraint that kept him from crushing her petite hand in his giant fist.

Steadying herself with a deep breath, she continued. "In all my wanderings, I have never lost hope in seeing you again. Dreamt of the time I would feel your strong arms..."

"Save it, Maudy." Josiah huffed. "I'm not nearly as soft hearted as I once was."

Maude fluttered her eyes as innocently as possible. "Soft hearted?"

Josiah thrust her hand away and stepped back. "You cured me of that. Or don't you remember emptying out my life savings and disappearing, leaving behind annulment papers tacked to my pillow?" He shook his head in disgust, letting his anger go with a long sigh. "What do you want, Maudy? I'm too old and too broke for your games."

The woman studied him for a moment. So, romancing him back wasn't going to do the trick.

Then she remembered the doe outside. There was one thing nothing could change about Josiah Sanchez: he had enough pity to adopt the entire continent... and then find homes for the rest of the world.

Dropping her eyes, she admitted "Truth is, Josiah, I've gotten myself in a bit of trouble."

"No kiddin'!" He huffed, shaking his head. "Maudy, you are trouble."

Maude took a quick step toward him, looking up at him, eyes shiny with desperation. "Oh, lord, not like this. I know I have done some horrific things in my time. I do know, and I am sorry for all the hurt I have caused others. I was only trying to survive in the only way I knew how, the same way my mother taught me." she cried, clutching her hands together just under her chin.

Josiah frowned. "It would be more convincing if it wasn't for that manicure."

Maude's eyes flashed to her finger tips for just a breath, before she continued. "You see, we, Ezra and myself, we were on the mends, making a good showing of ourselves with this little club down in New Orleans. This awful man, he was running a protection racket. But I wouldn't pay. I couldn't. We just didn't have the cash he asked for. It was all tied up in the club."So, this awful man proposed an exchange." She paused, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. "I didn't want our son to think... to believe... oh..." She shook her head, letting her eyes drop. After taking a shaky breath, she looked up at Josiah again. "He burned us out, Josiah. Burned everything we had built right to the ground and sent us running like frightened children. Now he claims that we owe him for the lost profits he would have earned from our club. He's hunting us, Josiah." She stepped up to him again, grabbing his shirt front. "Oh, Josiah, what he said he would do to our son..."

Again, Josiah grabbed her and put her off. "What do you want, Maudy?" he repeated.

Maude Standish licked her lips. "We... we just need a little money... just enough to make a run for it." she pleaded. "Not for me, Josiah. For our son, for our beautiful, sweet Ezra. No matter what you feel for me, you can't hold so much hate that you wouldn't want to save our son."

Josiah stared at her long and hard, trying to judge what was truth and was lie. There were just so many questions. Hell, he couldn't even be certain the boy was his.

But if the boy was in trouble... and by the way he witnessed Ezra being treated by his mother, he was... Josiah couldn't turn his back on him. Son or not.

Sensing victory, Maude added what she thought would be the final blow: "You can't turn your back on your own son."

With a sigh, the big man turned away from her. Running his hand through his hair, he grumbled "No, I can't."

Maude almost giggled with excitement over the win. Only strict self control enabled her to keep from ruining it. "Bless you, Josiah." she whispered.

Josiah turned to face her again. "I will give you money and you will leave." he told her.

Maude nodded. "I swear, we will never bother..."

"Not we', Maudy." Josiah stopped her. "You. I will give you money, but only if you leave Ezra with me."

The color drained from her face. "Ex... excuse me?"

Josiah crossed his arms over his chest. "There's no excuse for you, Maude Standish. And there is no excuse for those bruises I'm sure you left on that boy's shoulder. He's staying here!"

Maude's anger suddenly rose up. "You are talking about my son!" she snarled, her facade of being a lady gone.

"MY SON... or so you claim." he reminded her. "That's the condition. You don't see a penny any other way."

The woman's eyes narrowed, her fine, little hands doubling up into tight fists. She considered for a moment the tiny derringer hidden in the folds of her puffy sleeve.

But Maude Standish did nothing unless there was something for her to gain.

Shooting Josiah dead would get her only the few dollars he had in his pockets. And she'd still have to wade through his friends for her son. But, if she gave in, if she sold him her son...

It wasn't as if it would be the first time she had sold the boy. And to people far worse than even herself. And she had always won him back. If not in a game, than simply by taking him. And, if that didn't work, Ezra would always make his way back to her. He knew, even at the tender age of eight, where he belonged.

Hell, she could even consider it a vacation, not having to worry about feeding nor bedding the little runt!

"But, I love my son, my sweet Ezra." she whispered, trying to make it look good. The more Josiah believed her, the more he would pay for her boy. "What would I do without him? I need him!"

Josiah could almost believe it. Children did funny things to people. Brought out the best in them. But it also brought out the worse. Disgusted, he reminded himself that he was standing there, bargaining to buy a child.

"If you had an ounce of love for that child, you would leave him." Josiah warned her.

She spun away from him. "If only I could get far, far away. Start a new life... maybe I could... move on without..." She sniffed loudly.

It was too much. Josiah knew for sure now that she was just upping the price. So, he put an end to the bargaining. "Two thousand dollars will get you far enough."

"Two thousands!" Maude was insulted. But, when she snapped about to challenge him, he threw the money at her.

"Now, get out!" Josiah growled. "Get out and stay out!" With that, he turned and stomped out the back door of the office.

If he had any doubts about Maude Standish, they would have been put to rest if only he looked back to see the lady scrambling on the floor to pick up the last dollar.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Nathan grabbed his coat from the hook beside the door. "Well, I better go see to my wife. Probably filing for divorce by now." he announced.

"Nighty, Uncle Nate." J.D. waved.

Nathan smiled at the boys, then nodded to Ezra. "It was nice meeting you, Ezra. I hope that you'll be hanging around."

Sarah stood up and followed him out. "We don't have anything scheduled for the weekend, 'cept the doe getting picked up. Why don't you bring Raine out if she can get the time off from the hospital? Let you boys play a bit."

Nathan grinned. "And save you from an overload on male company?"

She clutched his arm, pleading "Save me! I need female companionship!"

The team medic laughed. "We'll be here." He patted her hand sympathetically. "Just hold onto your sanity a little longer." he encouraged.

"Excuse me." Josiah suddenly growled, stepping between them and into the kitchen.

Nathan and Sarah looked at each other, concerned and confused. Then followed their big friend back into the kitchen.

Josiah hadn't looked at anyone but Ezra as he crossed the kitchen and held his hand out to the boy. "You need to go talk with your mother before she leaves." he said softly.

"Leaves?" Ezra stared up at him. His heart skipped. His emerald eyes grew big. This wasn't the plan! She promised they wouldn't do this again! She promised...

He leaped to his feet. Pushing pass Josiah, he ran out the door.

"Ezra..." Sarah called after him.

But the boy rushed passed her and continued on.

Chris came to his feet. "What's going on, Josiah?"

Josiah looked at him, then glanced back at Sarah. "Would you guys mind if Ezra stayed with us?" he asked tentatively.

"Really?" J.D. clapped his hands excitedly. "Cooool!"

"How long?" Chris asked.

Josiah sighed. "I don't know." he admitted. "But I can't let him go back to her... to that woman!" He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. Just when did he get so tired. He'd been happy and ready to play with the boys when he had gotten home. Hard to imagine that that was only twenty minutes ago. Felt more like hours.

"Is he really your son?" Sarah asked, leaning up against him.

His eyes snapped down to look at her. And that was the question... and, again, he had to admit "I don't know. But, even if he wasn't, I can't..."

Vin looked up at the adults. "Ez's Uncle 'Siah's kid?" He and J.D. looked at each other excitedly.

Sarah and Chris also looked at each other, but it was Buck who answered the original question: "Come on, boys. Let's get that roll bed down to your room."

"In the mean time," Sarah took Josiah's arm, "we better go check on your boy."

"Mother?"

Maude paused at the door of her car. She took a moment to plaster on her best smile, before turning to face her son. "Ezra, my beloved." She held her arms open. "Come and give your mother a farewell hug."

Ezra stood on the top step of the office deck and glared down at her. "You're leaving?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "You promised! You promised you wouldn't leave me any more!"

Maude quickly glanced around, making sure no one but their chauffeur had been around to hear. When she saw that the coast was clear, she quickly stepped up to the deck, and hissed "Watch your words, child! Do you want to blow your cover?"

"But I don't want to con them!" Ezra wined. "They're nice!"

"Nice!" Maude grabbed his forearm in a painful grip. "You know better than that, Ezra. No one is nice. Nice is just another con. You do what you are told! You find the money. You score the money. I'll be close by." She smiled, her grip softening. "Remember, Ezra, you are my son. You owe me everything."

"But... you promised... Ow!" He bit his lip as her grip tightened again and twisted, bringing tears to his eyes.

"You will do as you are told!" she hissed.

"Maude!" Josiah snapped as he and Sarah came up on the deck behind the boy.

Instantly, the woman's entire manner changed from the harsh con woman to a loving mother. Her hand softened to a gentle touch. She leaned close and laid a gentle kiss on her son's forehead. "Be your very best, my beloved Ezra." she cooed. Straightening up, she eyed Josiah. "Take care of my boy, Josiah Sanchez." she told him. Then, with a seething glare sent at Sarah, she spun about and returned to her car. Without a glance back, she climbed in.

The chauffeur closed the door behind her, stepped around to the driver's side, and climbed in.

"Mother..." Ezra started, but bit his lip as he watched the car drive away.

Josiah set a big hand on the boy's small shoulder.

But the boy under his hand stiffened. Straightening up, he sniffed, quickly wiping his tears away, before turning to face Josiah. He summoned every ounce of strength he had and tried to look calm, strong, and all grown up. But he couldn't seem to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Josiah put an arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him against him, letting him hide his face.

o0o0o0o0o

Sarah set the small suitcase on the bed and opened it. "This doesn't seem to hold much." she observed.

Ezra glanced up from where he sat, with knees pulled up to his chest, at the head of the bed. He watched her for a moment, before dropping his head back to his knees.

Sarah picked up a suite jacket. "We'll need to get you some school and play clothes."

"School?" Ezra looked up again, frowning. "Is there something wrong with my clothing?"

"Well, honey," she started hesitantly, looking over the elegant, hand tailored silk blouses, suit vests and jackets, ties, and slacks. There were two entire suits. "This is some mighty pretty stuff, but you'll want to save these things for special occasions. School clothes need to be comfortable for school activities. And you'll need some jeans and t-shirts for play. And, around here anyways, hiking boots."

"I do not play." Ezra's answer was cold, muffled as he dropped his head again.

"Don't play?" Vin exclaimed as Chris lead him into the bedroom, J.D. dragging his feet behind.

"Who don't play?" J.D. asked around a yawn.

"At this hour?" Sarah smiled. "No one does." She tapped her cheek. "Kiss."

The two boys slouched on over, each giving her a kiss.

"Night, Sarah." Vin offered before climbing into the bed opposite of Ezra's.

J.D. eyed Ezra suspiciously. "That's my bed." he pointed out.

Ezra's head snapped up.

"J.D. you get to sleep in the roll away." Sarah informed him, taking a moment to zip up the final inch of his jumper.

"The bouncy bed?" J.D.'s eyes brighten.

Chris frowned. "The NO-bouncy bed." He corrected, doing his best to look stern. Of course, he knew, the minute the door was closed, J.D. would be on his feet, jumping like there was no tomorrow.

It was going to be a long night.

"I don't want to dislodge anyone." Ezra quickly offered, moving to leave the bed. "I can look after myself."

Sarah stopped him with a hand on his knee. "Stay right where you are. You're not dislodging anyone."

Chris scooped little J.D. up. "Truth be told, hardly anyone in this house ends up where they began. Probably the best thing about this house." He paused at the foot of the bed and tried his best fatherly smile. "You're safe here, Ezra. I know things seem pretty tough right now, but this is home. Close your eyes, get a good night's sleep, and trust that we'll keep you safe."

Ezra blinked up at him, but said nothing.

Chris smiled slightly, then carried J.D. over to the roll out across the room. It was a struggle to plant the wiggling five year old under the covers, but, when he finally did, he tugged them tight and tucked them in.

"Hey... I can't move!" the boy protested.

Chris leaned over him. "That's the idea. Be good!" He tweaked his nose, then stepped over to wait at the door for his wife.

Sarah closed up the suitcase. "Well, looks like we'll need to get you some P.J.s too. Buck will bring something in for tonight." She smiled, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. "Josiah wants to say good night too."

Ezra shrugged.

With a sigh, Sarah leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead. When he shied away, she sighed again. "Sleep well, sweety. We're right down the hall if you need anything. And Josiah is down the hall in the other direction." she told him before standing and joining her husband.

As soon as they were out the door, J.D. kicked for all he was worth until his blankets were loose enough for him to wiggle out and climb to his feet. And, with freedom, came bouncing.

Vin eyed his little brother. "You're gonna get in trouble, J.D." he warned, but J.D. just stuck his tongue out at him.

Grinning, J.D. turned in midair to look at their new roommate. "Why'd your mama leave, Ezra? She goin' to heaven too?"

Ezra glanced up at him sharply. "What!" he demanded, alarmed at such an idea.

"J.D.!" Vin snapped. "That's rude! Besides, mamas go to heaven when they die. Ezra's mama didn't die. She drove away in that big, ugly car. Remember?"

"Sedan." Ezra corrected, smiling slightly at the description. "And a car is like shoes."

J.D. paused in his jumping, tilting his head to one side. "Shoes?"

Ezra nodded. "Flashy cars, like flashy shoes, indicate wealth. Mother always says that appearance is foremost in all things. You need to look wealthy to get close to the wealthy. Learn to talk and walk and look just the right way, and people will do anything you want."

Vin wrinkled his nose. "Sounds like a lie to me. Makin' folks think you're somethin' you ain't." He shook his head. "I don't like stuff that ain't real."

"It isn't a lie!" Ezra snapped. "You wanna know what the real lie is? My mother always said the only real lie is honesty! She says no one is ever what they say they are. No one is ever really nice. No one ever does anything right out!"

Vin's sharp blue eyes narrowed. "You wanna know what I think?"

Ezra crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "No." he answered sharply.

But J.D. said it himself. "I think Vin thinks your mama musta been pretty sad to say all that stuff." He looked at Vin. "Gets all sad an' lonely when no one knows who you really are."

Ezra looked at the little boy who had returned to bouncing.

Despite his up and down movement, the five year old seemed to be quite serious, knowing even. A little more grown up than someone of his few years should be. Despite bouncing on the bed.

When J.D. noticed he was being watched, he smiled. "My mama was never sad... 'cept, 'course, when she had to say bye-bye. We didn't have no big, ugly cars or shoes. Some times we didn't even have lots of food. But she always told me everything, an' we laughed all the time, an' she'd tickle me, an' we'd play in the park, an' feed the big, fat pigeons. My mama always said strangers are just friends you've gotta say hi to." Again he paused his bouncing. Tilting his head to one side, he grinned, waved, and said "Hi." Then he started bouncing again.

Ezra frowned. "This is childish." he complained.

Vin huffed. "Good thing we're all kids then, eh!"

J.D. giggled.

"Hey!" Buck launched himself through the air, caught J.D. in mind jump, and flipped him down on his back on the bed. Leaning over him, the big man bounced his hands up and down on the bed, making it shake around the little boy.

Ezra was instantly on his knees, leaning forward, concerned and shocked that the little boy was about to get beaten.

But, instead of crying in fear and pain, J.D. laughed. "Da!"

Buck growled playfully, snapping his teeth at the child. Grabbing the blankets, he snapped them up and over the little body, successfully pinning him down once again.

Squinting one eye suspiciously, he asked "Were you bouncing on this bed?"

J.D.'s eyes went big. "Who? Me?"

Buck straightened up. "Who? Me?" He turned his head to look at the other two occupants of the room and winked at them. He almost paused when he saw and recognized Ezra's distress, but he knew that the boy would be taken care of. After all, his father had been right behind Buck.

Grinning, he opened his mouth, turned back to his son, and dropped his teeth down on his throat. Growling, he played as if he was chewing on him while he tickled his ribs until J.D. was a squirming mass of giggles and thrown about covers.

Ezra remained stock still, every muscle tense, ready to move in case the big man's attention turned his way. Though he had yet to see any real punishment, he was sure it had to be coming. So intently was he watching Buck, he never saw Josiah standing beside his bed. When the big hand rested on his shoulder, he jumped back so violently, he smacked the back of his head against the head board.

"Oooow." he hissed, instantly folding forward, wrapping his arms around the back of his head.

"Wow. Ouch." Josiah breathed in sympathy as he dropped down on the edge of the bed. He reached over to pull the boy's hands down to check his head.

"OW! Don't touch!" Ezra cried, jerking away before the man even had the chance to touch his head.

"Hey, hey." Josiah quickly let him go again, but stayed close. "It's okay. I won't hurt you, son." he promised. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine." Ezra quickly said. He glanced up at Josiah and, seeing that he wasn't moving away, he took a deep breath and calmed himself. "My apologies, Mr. Sanchez. Truly, I am quite alright. There is no need to be concerned."

Josiah leaned over the boy and smiled gently. "May I look anyway?" he asked.

Ezra hesitated.

Josiah sighed. "That's alright. I'll let it be... if you promise me one thing...?"

The boy looked up at him and waited.

"If your head still hurts you'll come and let me look. Okay?" Josiah held his hand out to seal the pack, knowing, if Maude taught him anything, it was about making a deal.

Ezra stared at the hand for a moment, before reaching out and taking the offered hand, giving it one, slight shake.

"Now that that's settled..." Buck spoke up from where it looked like he had tied his son down in the bed. He tossed Josiah a big t-shirt. "Try that on for size."

Josiah started to hold it up, but Ezra quickly snatched it.

"It will do fine. Thank you kindly, Mr. Wilmington." the boy said. He laid the shirt in his lap and waited for the two men to leave.

Josiah frowned. He had been hoping to see if Maude really did leave bruises. He knew Ezra would never show him right out. Perhaps while the boy was changing... But, apparently, that wasn't an option either.

"No prob, little man." Buck was quick to catch on. "You boys get some sleep. Remember, Vin, J.D., you both have school tomorrow." he reminded them as he rose to his feet.

J.D.'s only response was a big yawn, his eyes already closed.

But Vin groaned. "Ahhh, but what 'bout Ez? Ain't he gonna go to school? If he's stayin' home from school, why can't I?"

Buck shrugged. "Why can't you stay home? I don't know. Wanna ask Chris why you can't stay at home and play rather than takin' in a good day of learnin' at school?"

Vin pouted. "Never mind." he grumbled, falling back in bed and pulling the covers over his head.

Buck chuckled. "Good thinkin', cowboy." He reached down and tugged on his foot. "'Night, kiddo." Then nodded to Ezra. "You need anything, buddy, just come a lookin'."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Ezra answered softly.

Buck grabbed the back of Josiah's collar, pulled him to his feet, and dragged him after him.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Maude walked through her hotel suite to the luxuries bedroom. Anyone would have been amazed that she could have afforded the penthouse of the most fantastic hotel in the county. They would have been down right shocked to discover she didn't pay for an inch of it. A pinch of Josiah's money, flashed at the right time at the right place, accompanied by the right words had convinced the right people that she was one of the wealthy. One did not ask the wealthy to pay for anything in advance.

Ah, but life was wonderful if one knew just how to play the world. And Maude Standish knew how to play the world.

After all, who else could spend their time in such luxury, waiting for the money to come to them? Which her talented, little Ezra P. Standish did ever so well.

Leaning against the door frame leading into the bedroom, she reached around the corner for the light switch.

Suddenly her hand was grabbed and she was yanked into the room. Stumbling forward, she fell across the bed.

The light switched on.

Maude laid on her stomach on the bed, her hands bracing her up. She didn't need to look to know who had attacked her. Fact was she didn't want to look, holding on to the slightest whisp of hope that she was wrong.

"Ma beautiful gal. 'ere ya go, sayin' ya had nottin' but nottin' in 'ose silk pockets of yer, but ya can muster up da doe fer a fancy joint like 'is? Tsk, tsk. 'as ma beautiful gal been a lyin' ta me?"

Swallowing her fear, Maude slowly rolled over and smiled up at her attacker. "Heavens, no, my sweet Benton. I would never lie to you." she purred, fluttering her eye lashes.

"'ey, so ya say, but..." The gruff looking man waved a hand at their surroundings, then glared at the woman.

Maude giggled. "Oh, Benton, you know me. I never pay for anything." She immediately regretted her words when she saw the rage flare in his blood shot gray eyes.

"Don't I know, gal." he growled. "But, ya see, I ain't 'e type to go unpaid." He glanced around the room until he saw her purse. Snatching it from the dresser, he cleared everything else off with a swipe of the arm. Then he turned the purse upside down and shook it until its contents fell out. "Ya owe me, gal. Now, I want ma money! An' lets add on the price of 'e plane ticket followin' ya an' yer damn brat all over 'e country." When a small roll of money fell out, he glanced back at the woman, and grinned. "'ey, now, looky looky what I've gone an' found." But when he counted it, he was disappointed. "Tsk, tsk, now I am sore. What? $1,800? 'is all? Ya owe me, gal, owe me more 'en quarter mill." He waved the cash at her. "'is don't even cover ma plane ticket!" Despite such, he shoved the cash into his back pocket. "Now, jus' how do ya plan on payin' me back, gal?" From his front pocket he pulled out a shiny, spiked set of brass knuckles.

Maude's eyes grew. Quickly she climbed to her feet. "Benton, I have the money. I swear it." she lied.

Benton slid the brass knuckles over his fingers, then held his hand up to admire the fitting. "Where?" he asked calmly, not even bothering to look at her.

The woman hesitated. "Ezra and I have a con in the works. It will lead to a handsome chunk that will pay you in the complete and still leave a few yards for Ezra and myself."

Benton's eyes narrowed. "Where's 'at brat of yers anyhow?" He glanced around. "'at critter is due a bit from 'e flat of ma hand. 'at bite of 'is left scars on ma skin."

Maude smiled slightly, glade that the man's anger had shift from her, if only for a moment. Apparently it didn't bother her that much that it was now focused on her son. "What did you expect, Benton?" she giggled in a flirty way she knew he would like. "He was only protecting his mother. What good boy wouldn't?"

The man smirked slightly. "Well, I'll keep 'at in mind. maybe I won't beat 'e life out of 'im. Jus' a few swats. If'n he brings back 'ome a pretty score, maybe I'll swat 'im so little he'll be walkin' afterwar's." He looked the woman up and down. "When's 'e brat due anyhows?" he wondered, stepping close to her.

"Ezra?" she smiled with honest confidence. "I will see him tomorrow."

"Will he 'ave 'e money by 'en?" Benton asked.

"Well, Benton, dear, Ezra is my son. That should tell you something."

Benton chuckled. Reaching out he took her gently by the chin. "Yea, 'at it does." His grip harden, his fingers digging painfully into her soft, delegate flesh. "Tells me not to trust 'e brat one tiny bit. Chances are I'll be 'inkin' he's payin' me all the time he's got my wallet an' headin' the other direction." His eyes narrowed. "Won't be like 'at 'is time, pretty gal. Ei'er I get cold, 'ard cash, or I'll take ma payment out in flesh." He shoved her back viciously, slamming her against the bed post.

Maude gasped as the hard post jabbed into her back.

Benton gives her a hard glare. "An' 'at boy of yers gonna hurt as much as yer gonna. You be sure of 'at, gal. Be sure of 'at." he promised, before turning around and heading for the door. "Tomorrow, Maude." And then he was gone, leaving Maude Standish alone to think about just what tomorrow would hold.

o0o0o0o


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: In Memory of Devon and in honor of the sons he left behind.

What was Missing

Part Two

When Ezra woke the next morning, the bedroom was empty. The Aladdin wall clock read ten 'o clock in the morning.

For a moment the young boy was unsure where he was and what was going on. But, being used to waking up in strange places, his mind quickly adjusted.

With a long sigh sounding far too old for the small child, Ezra concluded "Mother." With a shake of his head, he decided "Might as well get it over with." Stretching, he yawned, then slowly climbed out of bed. He took a moment from getting dress to take a good look at the finger shape bruises on his arms.

The ones on his shoulder were already fading. But the ones on his arm were deeper. Those would take a couple extra...

"I have some cream that will make those feel better."

The boy spun about to stare wide eyed at Sarah.

She was leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. A small, round, white container was held in one hand.

Ezra was quick to recover, offering a not quite steady smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Larabee. It is a pleasure to see you on this wonderful morning." he said, quickly turning his back to her and glancing about for his shirt.

Sarah walked into the room and sat on the bed beside him. Seemingly unaware of what he was looking for, she moved the shirt behind her and out of reach.

Ezra stopped moving. Standing very still, he looked at her from the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly was she doing. He wasn't sure if she had moved the shirt on purpose or not. Was she playing him? Conning him?

Sarah reached out and gently took him by the chin, turning his head until he was looking directly at her. "It doesn't smell or hurt or anything else. It'll just dull the ouch a bit and help heal the bruises." she continued to sell the cream in her hand. She was already unscrewing the top.

Guessing that he didn't have much of a choice, Ezra sighed. "Yes, ma'am." he excepted. "That would be... appreciated."

Sarah smiled a little more. She gently pulled him to her lap. Dipping her fingers into the cream, she proceeded to rub it into the bruises. She frowned when the boy didn't wince when she added pressure. She had to wonder just how many times does it take for a child to become insensitive to being hurt.

Sensing her concern, Ezra tried to quiet it. "They will not last long, Mrs. Larabee. Little boy color as my mother would call them. Every growing boy has them at one time or an..."

"No, Ezra, they do not!" Sarah cut him off a little too harshly.

Again Ezra stopped cold, freezing in place, and wait.

Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the need to find a little strength within, before continuing. "No, Ezra, little boys do not have bruises the shape of finger prints on their arms... or anywhere else on their body for that matter." she breathed. "Little boys have bruises from falling out of trees or being a little rough at dodge ball. They have scraped knees from running too fast, they have bumps from bouncing on beds that they shouldn't have. They have slivers and little cuts from learning how to widdle. They have blisters on their feet from forgetting to ware socks. They have sunburns, cat scratches, and bug bites. They do not have finger bruises." She ran a gentle finger over the purple marks on his arm. "These are wrong, Ezra, and they should never have happened." She shook her head, sniffing back her own heartache at the sight. "I am so sorry that it did happen."

Frowning, Ezra looked up at her. Was she really going to cry about it? Why would she cry over him? He wasn't even her kid!

Gathering her strength once more, Sarah's smile returned. "What do you say you finish getting dress and come and get something to eat. We have a busy day and nearly half of it is already gone." She handed him his shirt again.

"Half?" Ezra huffed at the absurdity. "It's only ten in the morning! This is early!" he protested. "I'm used to sleeping 'til nearly noon."

"Noon?" Sarah huffed right back. "Well, young man, here abouts morning starts in the AM hours." She laughed when his eyes narrowed in a scowl. Hugging him, she admitted "You are a delight, Ezra. But even delights need breakfast and, apparently, alarm clocks." Then she was on her feet and heading down the hall, calling over her shoulder "Get a wiggle on it, buddy boy. Truck's pulling out in twenty and I want food in that belly of yours."

Ezra stood where he was, a little bewildered at the exchange. He didn't understand Sarah Larabee. She wasn't like any woman he had ever met before in all of his short life. And certainly nothing like his own mother. He couldn't help but wonder if Sarah was what mothers were supposed to be like... wonder what it would be like to wake up every morning, greeted by a mother like that.

Ezra suddenly blushed, realizing that he had been standing there, smiling at absolutely nothing.

Quick as he could, he swung his shirt on, grabbed his shoes, and hurried out of the room.

0o0o0o0o0

Mary Travis frowned at the one slip of paper in the folder. "There isn't a whole lot here to work with, Josiah." she admitted. "You didn't even get her to sign a form of intent. A brief statement saying that she wanted you to have the boy..."

Josiah sighed, but Buck was quick to question the social worker. "What about the abuse?" he wanted to know. "You can take kids away if they're being hurt. Well, both Josiah and Sarah saw her hurt Ez."

Mary leaned back in her seat. "We need to record any bruises and other marks of abuse and we need him to tell us about his life with her, so on and so forth. He'll need a complete physical and an interview..."

"Interview?" Josiah looked up at her.

"By a third, unattached party. Us." Mary tried to be very precise. "We went through this with Vincent. Admittedly, that was easier. His mother had died. There was no chance of anyone protesting his placement. And his previous foster home was directly under our employment. It was almost a simple matter to investigate and shut them down." She tapped the application for placement on the desk before her, reading the sketchy information once again. Then she looked at the men once again. "Josiah, are you sure you want to take on this child? There is a good chance he isn't yours."

"If he is mine, he is my responsibility." Josiah answered quietly. "If he isn't, then he still needs my help." He shook his head. "I can't turn my back on that."

Mary shrugged. "Helping him doesn't necessarily mean taking him in to your own home and raising him as your own. We do have plenty of good, loving homes..."

"Do we have to decide that now?" Josiah cut her off. He didn't like the idea of sending that small boy into the system to be passed from one home to another. But, what if Ezra wasn't his?

Buck patted his big friend on the arm. "Nay, of course not." he answered which earned him a glare from the social worker. He simply glared back, daring her to counter his assurances.

Mary sighed. Reaching behind her desk for a new form in a filing cabinet, she answered "Since the Larabees already have certification as foster parents, I will place Ezra Standish in their temporary custody."

"Alright." Buck clapped his hands excitedly.

Mary frowned at him, wondering just why he was there in her office anyway.

"What do we do to get him something permanent?" Josiah wanted to know.

The social worker quickly turned her attention back to Josiah. "Now that we've decided where Ezra will be spending his time during the investigation, we need to prove his parentage, one way or another. And gather evidence of the possible abuse and the abandonment, which, at this time, we are going to call it." She paused. "Is there any chance that we can find Mrs. Standish and get her to sign a letter of intent? Right out sign the child to your care?"

Josiah stiffened.

Again, Buck leaped to with the answer: "With any luck, she's long gone. Farther the better."

"Maybe, maybe not." Mary responded. "Simple fact is, if she doesn't sign him over, showing that it is a voluntary action, then we'll have to use the accusations of abuse and abandonment to win custody. That means going through family court, possibly criminal depending on the extent of the abuse. And court means the mother needs to be present and/or represented. She has the right to face her accuser."

This time Buck frowned. "Josiah or Ezra?" he wanted to know.

Mary glanced at him. "Both." She shrugged. "Do you see now why we should try to find her? End this now and quickly, rather than dragging it through the court system for months, possibly years."

Buck looked up at his big friend. "Okay." he sighed. "I'll find her. You take care of your boy."

Mary nodded her agreement. Buck might have been an odd ball, but he was an odd ball that never lost sight of the goal... particularly when children were involved. If Maude Standish was to be found, Buck Wilmington would do it. On to other business. "In the meantime, Josiah, I need to meet with Ezra, but somewhere he feels comfortable."

"Come on out to the ranch. We're having a bar-b-que this weekend." Buck suggested.

Josiah smiled slightly, though it was a distracted expression. "It would be nice to have you out. Sarah has been going stir crazy with nothing but men to keep her company. And the boys have been asking about Gramps Travis.'"

Mary smiled at the reference to her father-in-law, a family court judge who had placed the two boys with the Larabees. He had spent several hours interviewing Vin and J.D. about the time they had spent with Chris and Buck. The boys had come out of his chambers calling him Gramps.' The affection had been mutual. "I'm sure he would enjoy the visit as well. Let's say tomorrow? 10am?" With confirmation from both men, Mary rose to her feet. "Tomorrow then, gentlemen. I will find out what I can about the boy in the mean time. Have a good day."

"Well, better, anyway." Buck mumbled, and the two men left the office.

o0o0o0o0o

Ezra stared at his sandwich... well, if one could call it a sandwich. Fried lard held together by a few tendons of protein (what type of protein he shuddered to consider) slapped between two grainy (flour? dust? mold?) pillows of air, smeared with artificially colored, artificially flavored, artificially artificial condiments, and garnished with the rejects from the hog slop.

"I just love fast food." Sarah Larabee admitted. "Could eat this stuff 24/7!"

Ezra's responding look was of horrified, disgusted shock.

Sarah laughed. "Yea, that's what Nat says." She begun to dig about the greasy fast food sack. "Got something for you."

The boy groaned. "Oh, heavenly saints preserve me... before the preservatives do."

But, to his amazement and his growling tummy's glee, the woman produced a...

"Salad!" Ezra practically pounced on it.

It wasn't a great salad, but it wasn't dripping in anything and, after viewing his choices, that was good enough for him.

Laughing again, Sarah moved the rejected burger out of the way. "Looks like you and I are gonna have to get together to discuss the menu. Though, it's gotta be said, you're missing out." She was about to take a bite out of the burger when she froze.

A pair of big, hazel eyes blinked at her over the edge of the picnic table.

"I thought you were still napping." Sarah admitted.

"I wokes up." J.D. answered around a yawn.

Sarah smiled. "So you did. Hungry, sweet pea?" She offered him the burger.

To her dismay, he shook his head. "I want what Ez's havin'."

"Humph." Sarah glanced at Ezra. "Corrupting him already, eh? Next thing you know you'll have him turning off Dragon Ball Z and readin' Hamlet."

Ezra grinned. And it was a full out mischievous little boy grin that pleased Sarah to no ends. "Hamlet is a good play. A classic." was his answer.

"What's a classics?" J.D. wondered. Crawling up on the bench beside Ezra, he sniffed at his salad. "What's that?" Then he glanced around. "When's Buck comin'?"

Sarah pointed. "That's a salad, all vegies."

The little boy frowned. "Vegies?" he wined. His eyes quickly found the lone burger, his little hands quickly following his eyes.

Again Sarah laughed, pushing the sandwich within reach. "I knew I could count on you to stand fast to the junk food."

Eagerly, he dove into it, ravaging it like a starving wolf would latch onto a raw steak.

Ezra glanced over Sarah's shoulder and frowned.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Something wrong, sweety?" she wondered, picking at a dish of fries.

Ezra's eyes snapped back to her. He smiled. "Nothing what so ever, Mrs. Larabee." He carefully rose to his feet. "If you will excuse me..."

"Wheres you goin'?" J.D. wanted to know. "Can I come? I wanna come too!"

Ezra stopped, glancing down at him. But, thinking it would raise suspicion if he denied the child, he shrugged. "If you wish, Mr. Dunne. Though I am only planning a visit to the gentlemen's lavatory." When the only response was a confused, little frown from the younger boy, Ezra sighed. "Bathroom." he translated.

"Okay." Like even the public bathroom at the city park could entertain the five year old.

Sarah was frowning, but she shrugged. "Alrighty, boys. Keep an eye on each other and hurry back.." she said before popping a French fry in her mouth.

Ezra smiled his best, nodded his assurance, and climbed to his feet. With little J.D. bouncing after, he crossed the picnic area to the public bathrooms.

As he had thought, the bathroom was filthy, smelly, but empty. After all, kids were in school or day care, most parents at work. The park had been nearly empty. There were two doors, one at each end of the long, cement building. Six stalls lined one wall, six sinks on the opposite wall.

Ezra walked straight to the stall nearest to the far door. He paused before entering to look at J.D. "Go into one." he instructed.

J.D. sniffed. "You going potty?" he wanted to know.

The older boy frowned at the choice of words, but, being in con mode, he played along. "Yes, and so are you. Go in, lock the door, go... potty... and don't come out until I come for you. Understand?"

J.D. nodded eagerly. No, he didn't understand, but it sounded like a game to him... and he was always interested in playing a game. So, he ducked into a stall and closed the door behind him.

Ezra waited until he heard the bolt snap into place, before adding one more time "Stay there!" He glanced about quickly, double checking that no one was about, then hurried out the door.

A hand snagged at his shoulder and threw him back against the hard, cement wall.

"Ow." Ezra hissed, squeezing his eyes closed as he slid down the wall.

Ignoring the hurt she had caused, Maude glanced around the corner of the door, making sure that her son hadn't been followed.

"Mother..." Ezra spoke softly.

Maude held up a hand, silencing him. When she was sure they were alone, she turned her attention to the boy. "Where's the money?" she demanded, reaching down to grab him by the collar and dragging him to his feet.

Ezra didn't hesitate. "Humboldt Bank." Digging into his pocket, he produced the deposit slip he had snuck out of Sarah's purse when she had been putting J.D. down for his nap. "Her pass code is 5683."

Maude huffed. "Figures."

Ezra tilted his head to one side. "What?" he wondered.

"5683 spells love." She shook her head. "That pathetic little bitch has always leaned toward the sappy side." She snatched the slip of paper out of his hand and began to read it over.

Ezra watched her for a moment. He couldn't help but compare her to Sarah. Sarah who's touch was gentle and warm, her words kind and encouraging. His mother's hard, painful touch, her words full of hate and lies, were suddenly very ugly to him. "I don't think she's pathetic." he mumbled under his breath.

But it wasn't quiet enough that Maude didn't hear. Her eyes snapped up from the deposit slip to bore into him. Her lip curled up in a sneer. "Well, perhaps that is because you are just as pathetic as she is." She snatched his collar again, yanking him to her. Her free hand waved the slip at him. "This is mere pennies! Where's the rest of the money?" she demanded.

Ezra blinked. "The rest?"

"Don't be stupid!" She shook him angrily. "This is just the Redwood Guides business account. It's just a filter account. It is the savings account and their personal accounts where the money is. Where! Are! Those! Accounts?"

Each shake whipped his head about until his neck muscles burned. "P... Please, mother..." Ezra pleaded. He resisted the urge to twist free, knowing it would only make her meaner. "We have enough. We can go anywhere with that!" he protested.

"Anywhere? Anywhere poor!" Maude snapped. She dropped him to the ground with a thud, ignoring the crack as his knee hit the hard cement walk. She spread her hands, her voice taking on a pleading tone herself. "Is that what you want? Is that how much you love me? You want this old, gentle body that pained and suffered to bring you into this world to live the anguish and humiliation of poverty?" She shook her head sadly. "That must be it. You wish me dead."

"Mother..." Ezra groaned. He knew it was a con. Even at eight he knew his mother was conning him. "It will be enough to get us to the next game." he promised. "There's nothing here. These people spend too much money being nice to everyone." he tried to reason with her. "We'll have better odds at the next game."

Maude rose up suddenly. "Fine, then, my unthankful whelp. You may explain that to Benton."

Ezra's eyes went big. "B... Benton?" he whispered. He glanced about quickly, searching for the dangerous man.

Maude nodded once. "He found us. Now, do you really want to tell him that you were too stupid to wrap your fingers around the money sitting at your little fingertips?" She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "You know what he will do to me. What he'll do to you."

Ezra dropped his eyes. "But... I don't want to do it... I don't want to hurt Sarah and Mr. Sanchez. It isn't fair. They've been so nice. Please... we have enough. I'll make it more than enough." He held up his hands, as if making an offering. "I won't eat. I don't need to eat. And I'll sleep in the trunk. I'll hustle the lot. I can pick pockets again. I can! I can make more than enough. We can go right now! Benton will never find us!"

"Ezra?" came a voice from inside the bathroom. "J.D.? Where's Ezra?"

Ezra's head snapped about. "Mr. Sanchez." he breathed, almost relieved. They had to go now. It would never work when Josiah found out Maude was still around.

Maude's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing.

"Ezra?" Josiah called again, his voice coming closer.

The woman grabbed her son's arm in a vise like grip, yanking him close to her face, and snarled "Do what you are told, you little fuck! or I will tell Benton all about your little, happy family life. How long do you think sweet, gentle Sarah will survive Benton's attention? Huh? How long you think Josiah and the others will want you around when they find out that it is all your fault that Benton had to kill your precious Sarah?"

Ezra bit his trembling lip, his eyes wide and shiny as he stared up at her.

She was genuinely surprised to see tears well up in the boy's eyes. Maude couldn't remember the last time she had seen him really, honestly cry.

Taken back, she released him and straightened up.

"Ezra!" came Josiah's voice, a hint of frantic sounding. They could hear him banging the stall doors open, looking for him.

Regaining her composure, Maude leaned over her son again. "Tonight. Go to their office. There was a filing cabinet marked Humboldt Bank. It must be their bank files. Get the information. I will come for you tomorrow." She cupped his face in a surprisingly gently hand and she whispered "Do as you are told, my son." Then she spun about and hurried around the corner of the building.

Sniffing, Ezra watched her go. His mind frantically racing, sorting through his mother's words.

Oh, god! What if Benton came after Sarah? What if he hurt her? Or hurt J.D.? He'd seen Benton do it before. He had seen Benton do all sorts of horrible things. He had done horrible things to both Maude and Ezra.

Swallowing hard, the little boy wiped at his eyes, straightened his jacket, and set his jaw. He had made his decision. He would do whatever it takes to make sure Benton never, ever, EVER hurts Sarah...

... even if it meant sacrificing himself to do it.

"Ezra! There you are." Josiah laid a big hand on his son's shoulders. "Where are you running off to, little man?"

Ezra blinked. "Nowhere, Mr. Sanchez." he answered in a dull voice. "Apparently nowhere."

Josiah eyed the boy suspiciously. What an odd thing for such a little guy to say, he thought. Then again, there hadn't been much that Ezra had said that wasn't odd. But there was something else here.

The big man reached out and touched the small cheek with his thumb. "Were you crying?" he wondered.

Ezra flinched, stepping back, his emerald eyes snapping about to lock on the hand.

Josiah sighed. Crouching down in front of him, he set his hand gently on his son's shoulders. "I know this must be hard for you. New place, new folks... you must feel all alone. But you aren't. Sarah and the boys... and me... we're here for you..."

Ezra held his hands up, silencing the man. "Mr. Sanchez! I just fell down! See?" He waved a hand at his torn pant leg over his knee.

Josiah glanced down and winced. "Ow. How did that happen?"

Ezra shrugged as he turned and head back into the bathroom. "Little boy color."

Josiah stopped cold at the words. A sudden anger filled his chest until he could feel his heart shrink back in fear. Every massive muscle in his body went ridged, his fists balled up so tight his knuckles popped and cracked in protest.

Ezra had continued on, unaware of Josiah's change. He wrapped an arm around little J.D.'s shoulders and headed out the other door, starting back for Sarah and her picnic table.

When they were out of ear shot, Josiah snarled "She was here."

Buck stepped out of hiding around the corner. "Ol' man, you gotta take a deep breath. You don't want to go chatting with the boys looking like your head's gonna explode goo all over."

Josiah's head snapped about, his usually soft and caring eyes hard and cold with rage. "She was here! She hurt him! Again! That wasn't a scraped knee. That bitch hurt him!"

"And I would love to go pick up the trail while it's still fresh and slam her prissy butt in jail for it all." Buck quickly explained. "But I am not gonna leave you looking like you're gonna kill something. That's not gonna help Ez any."

Josiah's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, buddy... deep breath, do some meditation somethin', yoga... whatever it takes! But you can not face that boy like this!" Buck continued. "Hell, you're scarin' the britches offa me. What you think you all pinched up and growly is gonna do to Ez? Which, I might point out, is already afraid of you..."

A huge fist suddenly smashed into the cement wall between the two men. So powerful was the blow, that it had crumbled a fist size print into the cement.

Startled, Buck jumped back. "Holy shit!" he cursed, staring at his friend with big eyes.

Closing his eyes, Josiah exhale, letting his excess anger out. After a quiet moment, his eyes opened again, and he pulled back his fist to examine it. "I think I broke a knuckle.

"I sure as hell hope so!" Buck exclaimed. He looked at the damage to the wall. "If you hadn't broke somethin' you ain't even human! Hell, you ain't even a freakin' elephant!"

Josiah turned to him. His voice softer, his eyes calm again, he asked of his friend "Brother Buck, find her. Make sure she never hurts my son again. Anyone's son!"

Buck smiled. "Hey, chasing women is one thing this ol' hound dog does well." He tilted his head in the way the boys had gone. "Go see to your kid's knee... and that knuckle." Assured Josiah was back to his big, teddy-bear self, Buck turned and started off across the park.

There was a Lincoln over there. That was a damn good spot to start.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Buck Wilmington tapped his finger on the steering wheel of his truck. He was getting rather annoyed with all this following around and waiting crap.

First he had followed the Lincoln to the Wabash Hotel, only to find out that, though it had indeed carried Maude there, it had not been her destination. Oh, no, the snake of a woman had walked right on through the hotel and hooked up with her Sedan waiting in the back.

If Buck hadn't looked out the window just at the right time, he would have lost her all together. But, he had always been a lucky S.O.B.

Buck huffed. "Lucky S.O.B. my rosy back side." he grumbled. "If I'd been the lucky one, it'd been my kid and 'Saih would be the one sittin' out..." He paused tilting his head to one side. "It'd be Chris' kid and 'Saih..." Again he paused, before finally shaking his head angrily. "Hell, I'd still be the lucky S.O.B. Me and my big, lovable, sappy self."

Well, there was an up side. What ever happened, he knew Mary would be up and waiting for him with one of her famous cookies, glass of milk, and a demand for information.

With a sigh, he shrugged. "Well, there is that cookie."

Not to mention little Ezra. Buck was with Josiah on this one. He'd fight that woman all the way to hell and back to make sure she didn't ever hurt that child again.

After two hours of what seemed to be mindless driving about, the Sedan pulled in front of an all frills, richi-rich hotel. The door man rushed forward and opened the back door and Maude Standish stepped out.

"About time." Buck grumbled, glancing down at his watch. "Freakin' 7:30... you'd think she'd at least stop for something to eat... or something."

o0o0o0o0o

Maude Standish didn't even notice the doorman as she hurried up the steps to the hotel and, without even glancing to see if the door was going to be opened or not, she walked right through. After all, she looked rich, she walked rich, she smelled rich. The very air around her was rich.

If the door wasn't open by the time she passed through, hell would be had. Not to mention jobs, and, if she raised enough of a stink, perhaps even jail time.

If only they knew who and what she really was.

"Mrs. Grant." greeted the spit and polished manager of the hotel, hurrying forward to take care of this fine lady himself. "Welcome to the grand Paramount Hot...."

"Is my suite ready?" the woman demanded, her tone crisp and immediate. She pulled her long, white gloves off one finger at a time as she walked right by the manager.

"Um..." He hesitated, taken back by the abrupt woman.

Maude's eyes snapped about to slap him with a glare.

Instantly, the man responded. "Yes, of course, ma'am!" He hurried forward, directing her to the private elevator. "I, personally, opened and prepared your suite. Everything that you have asked for is waiting for you... including an unopened, still in the wrapper deck of New Orleans playing cards." He paused to chuckle, before unlocking the elevator and holding the door open for her. "And those were not easy to find."

Maude stepped into the elevator, turned on her toe, cutting him off before he could enter, and held her hand out for the key.

The manager hesitated, but, alas, handed her the key. "Is there any thing else I or the Paramount can do for you, Mrs. Grant?"

"Yes." Maude answered. "Privacy. And, sir?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"If it is ever easy, it is not worth the request." With that said, she let the elevator close.

The manager's eyes narrowed. "Bitch." he hissed, then turned to go back to his station.

"Hey, there."

The man stopped as a big, rancher looking man stepped in front of him. Frowning, he wondered how such a rough looking... person got pass the door man. "May I help you... sir?" he managed, sounding as if he was spitting out something horrible. Hell, he couldn't possibly grind Mrs. high-&-mighty Grant into the ground, but this guy... well, this guy was another matter.

"Um, yea... Names Buck Wi... Standish. I'm lookin' for my wife."

The manager huffed. "Your wife?" he repeated with disbelief. "You are mistaken, sir. There is not a Mrs. Wi... Standish registered here. Perhaps at the Best Western? Or, humph, Motel 8?"

"Really?" Buck pushed his stetson back on his head and throwing on his best Southern accent. "But I jus' saw her goin' on up that there elevator!"

The man's eyes went big. "Mrs. Grant? You must be joking, sir! Mrs. Grant has come to us from Miami on...."

"I'll be damned!" Buck suddenly roared, throwing his hands in the air. Spinning about he stomped off a few feet, before throwing his hands in the air again and crying out at the top of his lungs "Dear lord, have mercy on ma poor, ailin' heart. Ma wonderful girl's gone an' doin' it to me again! Oh, lord, save her, save ma Muady's beautiful soul from her cruel an' evil, black, black heart!"

"Sir!" The Manager rushed forward to try and calm him as the hotel's guests and staff pause to look at the commotion.

But Buck wasn't done. Ripping his arm free, he dropped to his knees and screamed. "Oh, god, why do ya test me so? Why must ma dear wife stray so?"

"Alright!" The manager grabbed him and dragged him to his feet. Smiling and nodding slightly to patrons who stared at the scene, he quickly pulled Buck back behind a large potted plant for some form of cover/ "Fine! tell me this then, sir: if Mrs. Grant..."

"Wilmington." Buck corrected. "My sweet, cruel Maudy Wilmington."

The man shook his head, just trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. "Whatever. If she's your wife, then who's that waiting for her in her suite?"

Buck gasped, stepping back, his hand clutching at his chest. "A man? Already? Oh, dear god.... why does she carry on so? Why must she betray our vows so flagrantly?" He gripped the manager in a vice like grip, begging "Please, sir, oh, so kind sir, you must tell me... did ya... oh, heavens, do ya know.... has she surrendered her.... lord, help me.... her body to him.... Him! this devil who would foul his neighbor's wife?"

The manager blinked. "um... I... I don't think so." he mumbled, shrugging. "I mean, she just got here and...."

Buck threw his head back and began to quote the bible at the top of his lungs. "Oh heavens be... Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that thy neighbor's. Oh.... oooooh, and thou shalt not commit adultery!"

"Alright, alright!" the desperate hotel employee begged. He was ready to do anything to shut the man up, get him out of his hotel, and anywhere else but here!

But then another thought came to mind. Maybe he could stomp Mrs. not-so-high-&-mighty Grant after all. "Bitch." he grinned.

Buck stopped, glancing down sharply at the man. "I beg your pardon?"

The man quickly shook his head. "I understand completely, dear sir. I feel your pain." He glanced around quickly, before directing Buck towards the elevator. "Now, if you promise me.... swear to god... that you will not commit any act of violence on the premises of my hotel...."

"Thou shalt not kill!" Buck quickly agreed.

"Yea, well, blood letting isn't too great either. Just ruins the carpet." He wiggled his fingers in the air at him, giggling as if what he had said was funny... somehow.

And Buck stepped back, frowning. He wasn't sure if this dude was just trying to be cute or, heaven forbid, coming on to him.

The manager pursed his lips and opened the elevator. In hushed tones, he explained "This will take you straight to her room."

"Oh, you are an angle, dear sir." Buck cried. "Thank you, oh thank you."

"No need, Mr. Wilmington." the manager answered with a self satisfied smile. "Can't have any commandment breaking and sinning going on in the grand Paramount Hotel. Not with Motel 8 just down the street to do all that for us." And, with that, he closed the elevator doors and sent Buck Wilmington to the top floor.

0o0o0o0o0

Even after a wasted day, a simple, verbal slap in the face of the local stooge was enough to lift her spirits to all sorts of giddy heights. Oh there was nothing like messing with the little guy. If she died ugly and poor, not a penny to her name, she would die happy knowing that she, Maude T. Standish, had spent not a single breath as a stooge, a yes man, a groupy, the person everyone else paid to step on. No, siree, she was her own woman, her own mast..."

"Benton!" Maude gasped, grabbing the frame of the archway seeking its support.

There he was, laid out on `her' king size bed in `her' suite, tossing `her' hard to get, never before opened New Orleans playing cards into a trash can one at a time. Beside him on the bed was a blue-silver plated 9mm Colt revolver.

"Hey, Maudy. Nice digs." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, girl, you are amazin'!" He paused to belch loudly. Smacking his lips as if tasting the lingering flavor, he asked "Got my money? Or do I gotta go an' mess up that pretty, li'le face of yers?"

Maude swallowed hard, momentarily wondering just how did a rock that big get stuck in her throat.

Benton flipped another card, making a perfect basket, all hoop. "Don't make me ask twice, Maudy."

Maude straightened up again. Brushing at an imaginary speck of dust on her skirt, she continued into the bedroom of the suite. Turning away from him, hoping it would hide her fear, she dropped her gloves on the dressing table. "Really, Benton. Just appearing in a lady's chambers is hardly the means to developing trust and..." She yipped when Benton stuck his boot in her back and kicked, slamming her over the dressing table and into the mirror behind.

Instantly he was on her; one hand was on the back of her head, pressing her face into the mirror, the other grabbed her flailing wrist and pulled it up her back until she cried out. Leaning over her shoulder, he spat in her ear "Where's my money, bitch?"

"Please.... you're hurting me!" Maude cried, tears streaking mascara down her cheeks. "I'll have your money. I will! Tomorrow. The boy... it was his fault! It was Ezra's fault!"

"Really?" Benton twisted her hair, pulling her head back until he could see her eyes. "What the hell da ya think I am, Maudy? That bastard of yers could steal the president's pocket watch right outta his hand an' the secret service not even know he's in town!"

"He chickened out. The little idiot's fallen in love with the family." She tried to shake her head, but Benton's grip tightened.

"An' how'd you solve that li'le problem?"

"I.... I... told him about you."

Benton suddenly released her, stepping back to sit on the side of the bed. With a little, but proud, smile, he asked in awe "An' that worked?"

Her hand on the back of her head, Maude turned to face him. Sniffing, she nodded. "Yes... of course it did." Without his hands on her, her confidence was quickly returning. Taking a tissue from the dressing table, she began to wipe away the tear marks. "My son may be many things, but stupid is not one of them. He knows that he can never out run you. He knows that you are far too smart for him. And he knows what will happen to him if he does not pay up." She nodded. "Ezra will come through for us." she promised.

"For me." Benton corrected. He leaned back, setting his hand on the gun, almost as if he hadn't noticed that it was there.

Maude never missed a beat, smiling her most sparkling best. "Why, of course, my darlin' Benton. I only meant that by bringing the money to you he would be paying my debt."

The big man smirked. "Yea... I bet."

"Ah, Benton, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

Benton laughed. "Yea? Why'd you change hotels? Why'd you registered at eight hotels in this stinkin', little town?"

Maude shrugged. "Options." was her very simple explanation.

Benton opened his mouth for a retort, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He leaped to his feet, gun in hand. "Who's that?" he demanded. He threw a glare at the woman. "Who'd you tell you'd be here?"

"No one!" Maude protested. "It's probably just that nosey stooge down stairs, wanting to beg a tip." She held out her hands. "Just stay out of sight. I'll get rid of him." she assured.

"You do that, Maudy." Benton ordered, waving at her with the barrel of the gun. "An' don't you forget that I got this here pistol to make sure that's what you do." He stepped back behind the corner of the bedroom arch.

Maude watched him for a fearful moment , before, gathering her courage, she went to the door. Taking a moment to check her face in the mirror beside the door, she made sure she looked close enough to perfect that no one would ever guess that, only a moment ago, a mad man was threatening to kill her... or still was. Then she opened the door.

"Hiya, Maudy." Buck Wilmington greeted. "How's it going, sweetheart?"

Maude frowned. "Mr. Wilmington. Now what do I owe the displeasure of your company to?"

Buck grinned. "Ah, Maudy, you know I was always your favorite."

"Humph!" The woman turned and walked back into the main room of the suite and to the bar. Pouring herself a stiff drink, she turned back and leaned against the bar. "Is there something I can do for you? Or isn't taking my son from me enough?"

Buck shrugged. Snapping out a paper, he walked into the room and laid it out on the table. Taking out a pen he held it out to her. "All I need is your John Hanncock, sweet cheeks. Then me, myself, I, Josiah and little Ez will be out of your life for good."

Maude tilted her head to one side. "You want me to sign that?" She indicated each noun with a tilt of her glass. Chuckling, she shook her head. "You came far too early, my dear man. This is just my first drink of the evening."

Buck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at her, all amusement draining out of every ounce of his body. "What do you want?" he wanted to know, no longer playing any games. This was it. He wanted this over with. For his sake. For Josiah's sake. For the boy's sake.

"What do I want?" Maude glared at him. "I want my son! I want my life! I want what every mother wants: a good life for her son!"

"If you gave a piece of shit for little Ezzy, you'd leave him with 'Saih and never show your face again!" Buck snapped back. Jabbing the pen at her, he continued "You think we haven't seen the bruises? Seen the scars? You've beaten that boy! You've screwed up his head! And you are not going to get him back! Now sign the damn paper or we'll call the cops right here and now!" Putting his hands on his hips, he shrugged. "Easy or rough, whatever melts your chocolate. You ain't getting that boy back!"

Buck heard a metallic click. Turning his head he saw a strange man standing in the bedroom arch, pointing a gun directly at him.

Benton shook his head. "Now, ain't you one dumb ass. Shouldn't o' brought the cops into the chatter."

o0o0o0o0o

Little J.D. leaned his forehead against the big front room window. His hands flat against the glass, he gazed into the dark.

Ezra frowned at the boy. "What is wrong with him?" he wondered, throwing a glance at Vin who sat on the carpet a few feet away playing with long cords of leather. "What is he waiting for?"

Vin huffed. Shaking his head, he answered "Buck ain't back yet. Buck don't go off all night without callin' J.D."

Ezra continued to frown. The concept of a father checking in with his son was foreign to him. Of course, there were quite a few concepts in this odd little family that were foreign to him. He didn't think he would ever fully understand them. Nor should he. In his life, his life with his mother, the one that would began again just as soon as he betrayed these people, there was no room for such concepts.

Still he wanted to know. So, he asked "Why?"

Vin looked at him. "Why what?"

"Alright, boys." Sarah called as she came into the room. "Time for bed."

Obediently Ezra climbed to his feet with a polite "Yes, ma'am."

But Vin protested. "But Sarah…." he started to wine.

"Hey!" Chris growled, stepping around his wife so that he could lean over his son and remind him just what he thought about wining. "But what, young man?"

Vin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yea, sir." he mumbled, turning away, dragging his feet.

"Yea?" Chris' eye brows raised.

"Yessssss, sir." Vin hissed, tossing his father a smirk, which, in turn, earned him a playful swat on the rear.

"Come on, you little scamp." Sara chuckled, taking her adopted son by the shoulder and directing him toward the hall. She paused to glance back at the last boy. "J.D., sweety?" she called.

But the small boy did not reply, his head never turning away from the window.

"I'll get him." Chris assured, shoeing the others on. Then he turned his attention to the youngest of the household. Stepping over to the window, he peered out into the dark night. Absently he gently dropped a hand down on little J.D.'s head, running his fingers through his thick, black curls.

Not that he would ever admit it, but he was beginning to worry too. No way in hell would Buck let J.D. go to bed with out at last a good night phone call. Didn't matter how pretty the gal, how potent the drink, how tight the cuffs…

Last time one of J.D.'s parents didn't wish him good night, she never came back. His mother was killed that night a year and a half ago. And Buck Wilmington made sure his little man never had to wonder a single night since.

With a heavy sigh, Chris crouched down beside the boy. "Hey, little bit. It's bed time."

J.D. turned those big eyes of his up, pleading with his uncle. "Where's my Da? He don't never not say nighty." He glanced out the window for a moment, then looked up at him again. "Did Da go see… go see my momma?"

"Oh, no, J.D." Chris scooped the child up in his arms and hugged him tight. "No, little bit, Buck's just having a long night. He'll be home soon enough."

"But… but…" He had to pause to sniff. "He didn't say good night."

Chris held J.D. out at arm's length and frowned at him. "How do you know he didn't say good night?" He titled his head to one side. "Has your Da ever never said good night?"

Frowning right back, J.D. shook his head.

"So, just because you can't hear him, doesn't mean he didn't say good night. Because I know and you know that your Da would never not say good night." As if adding the punctuation mark, Chris tapped the end of J.D.'s nose. He was rewarded with a little giggle. "Now, did you tell your Da good night yet?"

J.D. blinked at him, then shook his head.

Chris hefted the small child up onto his hip and pulled back the curtain. Pointing out, he told him "Go ahead then. Say good night."

The boy looked out into the dark. Licking his lips, he called softly "Nighty, Da. Love you." His voice dropped. "Nighty, mamma."

0o0o0o0o0

Ezra pretended to fall right to sleep. He listened to Sarah whisper sweet dreams to Vin, and Vin answer with a whispered "Night, Mom." Through slitted eyes, he watched as Chris carried a nearly asleep little J.D. to his bed, slipping off the Spider Man slippers, tucking him in with his stuffed Woody, the Cowboy.

Their boys tucked in all safe and sound, the two stepped over to Ezra's bed. Ezra laid very still, concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and steady. Chris ran his fingers through his hair. Sarah kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"We're very happy that you're here, Ez, sweety." Sarah whispered to him, apparently not buying his sleeping act. "Have sweet, happy dreams."

Ezra felt a sudden sick pang in his belly.

Then they slipped out, turning off the light and closing the door as they went.

Ezra squeezed his eyes closed, his small fingers gripped his pillow in such a tight grip his fingers hurt.

Why'd she say things like that? Why'd she make him feel like she could actually, just maybe, possibly love him? Could she really, genuinely be nice? To him? He wasn't even her kid.

He could hear his mother's voice echo in his head: "You know better than that, Ezra. No one is nice. Nice is just another con."

He knew he should believe her. He had always believed her before. At least about the world of trust and love and good things. If all Ezra's years taught him anything, it was that a world of trust and love and good things didn't exist.

His mother had always told him that.

Had always shown him that.

Had proved it time and time again.

Still, when Sarah touched his cheek, or when Chris smiled at him, when little J.D. offered him half his cookie, or when Josiah laid a big, strong hand on his shoulder without threat…

Josiah Sanchez… his father.

Ezra shook his head angrily.

It was a lie!

It was all a lie!

It was always all a lie!

Everything was always a lie!

Just do the job and get out.

Get out and away before he started to believe in trust and love and good things.

Get out and away before his mother and Benton reminded him why he could never believe.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Josiah stepped in the front door just as Chris was making his rounds through the house, turning out lights and locking doors and windows.

When Chris looked at him, he shook his head. "No sign anywhere. Checked all the haunts, both Buck's and Maudy's. No one's seen either. Maudy isn't checked in at any of the hotels… least not by any name I know of." He dropped into the couch and kicked his boots off. "I don't know what else to do, Chris. If Buck's hurt hunting down that witch for me…"

"Buck can look after himself." Chris huffed. "No way in hell Buck's leaving J.D. an orphan."

Josiah looked up at him. It didn't take a whole lot of profiling skills to know Chris was trying to assure himself as much as Josiah.

Leaning against the arm of the couch, Chris told his friend "Nothing more we can do tonight. If he doesn't show up by morning, we'll go out in force."

Josiah put his head back and rubbed his hands over his face. With a tired sigh, he admitted "I just can't seem to make sense of the world. Is it that I'm just tired? Or am I in shock? Or…" He groaned.

Chris chuckled. "Well, having a son dropped on your front door step has a habit of turning a man's world up side down and in side out." He pushed off the couch and headed for the front door to check the lock.

"Ezra." Josiah breathed. "I have a son." he whispered as if just realizing who that small person he had spent the day fighting for was. "I never thought that I would have a son… an heir… a future beyond myself…"

A rush of cold air snapped him out of his thoughts. Sitting up Josiah glanced around for Chris, but his friend was gone and the front door stood open.

o0o0o0o0o

Pen light between his teeth, Ezra picked out the proper tools and began work on the lock. Like the office door, the file cabinet lock was simple. It took him only a few seconds and a twist of the wrist before the drawer slid open with a rattle. Standing on his tippy toes, the boy peered into the drawer and began thumbing through the files.

"Something I can help you find, boy?"

Chris Larabee!

Ezra froze, hands still in the drawer. He would have cursed if it wasn't for the pen light between his teeth. He considered dropping everything and running.

But Chris was standing in the door. The man was too big and too fast to get by him.

Maybe he could lie out of it.

But Chris was too smart to fall for some half thought lie pulled out of his hat.

He stood very still when he heard the heavy foot falls as Chris crossed the room to stand beside him. He closed his eyes, every muscle in his little body tense, ready for the beating.

Chris towered over him, considering what to do. After a long, silent moment, he reached around the child and pulled a file out of the drawer.

Ezra flinched so violently at the unexpected move that he stumbled back as if he had actually been hit.

Chris paused, glancing back at him, then continued on to the desk. He took a piece of paper and copied down numbers from the file.

Ezra's eyes darted to the door, judging the distance, estimating the time it would take him to get through it. Did he have enough time before…

"You won't make it." Chris spoke softly, not bothering to look up from his writing.

Ezra felt a flash of panic, but he forced it back. Fine. He couldn't run. Next option. Clearing his throat, he said "I can explain, Mr. Larabee…"

"You will lie." Chris told him before he had a chance to do just that.

"I…" Ezra started to protest, but, a glance from those hard blue eyes stopped him. Swallowing, the boy dropped his eyes. His mind raced through all the possible actions, each was as quickly tossed aside.

Chris was too big. Too strong. Too smart. Too…

His eyes burned. He quickly wiped at them, desperate not to show tears. Again he forced the fear down. "What… what are you doin'?" he asked, his voice cracking under stress.

Snapping the file close, again making Ezra flinch, Chris turned and handed the paper to him.

Ezra stared at the paper, and, when Chris shook it at him, took it. "What is this?" he wondered, reading the numbers written on it.

"What you came for." Chris told him as he put the file away and closed the drawer. "That is the bank account numbers, both business and personal, of the Redwood Guides."

The boy's eyes widen with disbelief. He looked up at Chris. "Why…?" he tried, but the words just didn't seem to be there.

Chris crouched down so he could be eye level with him. "You're a smart kid, Ezra. You know the difference between right and wrong, good and bad. And I'm pretty sure you know the difference between loved and not loved." He tapped the paper with one finger. "You have a choice right here and right now, Ez. You can take those numbers and run, go back to the life you've been living, the one where you think, you expect that a man's first reaction is to beat you." Chris rose up and turned, heading for the door.

Ezra took a step after him. "The other choice?" he wanted to know.

Chris looked back at him. "You can go back into the house, back to the father that loves you. Stay with us, where you will be warm, protected, and very much loved and very much wanted."

"What if…" Ezra started, but stopped. He bit his lip. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay so badly. Stay with Sarah who wished him sweet dreams, and J.D. who offered half his cookie, and Buck with his big laugh, and Chris with his towering strength, and Josiah with his gentle smile and caring eyes…

But Benton would come. He would kill him. He would kill Sarah. Kill little J.D. and Vin. He would kill them all! Might even kill Chris.

Taking a deep breath, he whispered "What if me stayin' meant bad things will happen?"

Chris shrugged. "You'll be surprised how not so bad bad things seem when you're backed up by a big, overly protective family."

Ezra shook his head, taking another step forward. "Benton's real bad. He's got guns and …." Again he stopped, eyes going big when he realized what he was saying.

Chris frowned. Turning around to face him again, he wanted to know "Ezra, who is Benton?"

0o0o0o0o0o0

Josiah was standing on the front deck, watching as Chris lead Ezra with a steady hand on his shoulder, across the compound and up the steps. With a raised eyebrow, Josiah asked "Little late for a walk about, isn't it?"

Ezra's eyes were locked on the toes of his shoes, looking, for the first time since he had arrived, like a little boy.

Josiah glanced up at Chris.

"Ezra, would you please go wait for your father on the couch." Chris said.

Swallowing, the boy glanced up at them, then, with a single nod, dragged his feet into the house.

When he was out of ear shot, Chris rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans. "I think Buck might have walked in on a mean, Riverboat viper."

Josiah stiffened. "How mean?"

"A son of a bitch named Benton." Chris explained. "Maud partnered up with him a year or something back. Apparently he's a bit of a killer. Has no problem smacking women and kids around. When Maud conned him and cut out, he took chase. He wants his money, he wants payback, and he doesn't give a damn who gets hurt in the process."

"Huh." Josiah shook his head. "Explains why she was desperate enough to come back here." He ran his hands over his face. "Ah, damn."

Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yea, well, keeping Ezra safe has just taken on a whole new level." He patted his friend on the shoulder. "Go take care of your kid. Keep him close. I'll call Nathan, fill him in. The Judge will be here in the morning. He can tell us what we can do from there."

Josiah nodded. "Yea…. Yea…" he breathed. Turning, he walked into the house.

Ezra was sitting in the dark on the couch. He looked as if he was somewhere between curling up into a ball and bawling his eyes out and jumping to his feet and making a dash for it. His fingers dug into the couch cushions as if holding himself in place.

Josiah dropped down on the couch beside the boy with a big, heavy sigh. Putting his feet up on the coffee table, he leaned back, and closed his eyes.

Ezra watched him out of the corner of his eye. He still wasn't completely convinced someone wasn't going to start yelling and swinging. He was just waiting, waiting for the other boot to drop and crush him. But when Josiah didn't say anything, when nothing happened, when he couldn't stand it any longer, he admitted "I'm sorry."

"Hmm?" Josiah mumbled, sounding half asleep.

Mustering his courage, Ezra pushed himself to his feet and turned to face the big man. His hands locked together so tightly his knuckles popped. "Mr. Sanchez…" Swallow. "I am sorry for what I have brought down on you and your family."

Josiah opened his eyes and looked at the boy. The tears shimmering in those green eyes broke his heart. Leaning forward, he wrapped his big arms around the thin child.

Ezra stiffened, closing his eyes against the expected wraith. But, when, once more, nothing hurt him, it was just too much. Ezra wrapped his arms around Josiah's neck, buried his face in his chest, and cried.

For the first time that he could remember, he cried. He cried and cried until he cried himself to sleep in his father's arms, warm, protected, loved, and very much wanted.

o0o0o0o0o0o


End file.
